Masters of the Universe
dir. Gary Goddard (1987)
What Star Wars could have been if given twice the budget but a clueless director, a deadweight lead (Dolph Lundgren) and a script written by someone pitting actual Mattel toys against each other. Meg Foster (Evil-Lin) and Frank Langella (Skeletor) aren’t terrible.
The Story of the Terrible Scar
by Catherine Storr; ill. Gerald Rose (Faber and Faber, 1976)
Four tall tales, none of them particularly exciting (but each serving the premise well), told by Jim’s uncle to explain how his father got the scar on his arm. A surprisingly effective fix-up chapter book, greater than the sum of its parts.
Raffles: The Amateur Cracksman
by E.W. Hornung (Methuen, 1899)
audiobook read by David Rintoul (Paul Kent, 2013)
A collection of sequentially linked short stories featuring roguish gentleman thief A.J. Raffles and his accomplice ‘Bunny’, who narrates. The dynamic is very Holmes/Watson (perhaps unsurprisingly, as Hornung was Conan Doyle’s brother-in-law) but the escapades themselves fall flat, despite Hornung’s accomplished prose.
Appleby Talks Again
by Michael Innes (Victor Gollancz, 1956)
audiobook read by Matt Addis (Brilliance Audio, 2015)
A pleasantly diverting collection of murder mystery tales. Appleby has more prominence and presence in the short form, though many of these stories give the impression of being little more than too-good-to-throw-away ideas that Innes dismissed as lacking substance for a novel.
Doctor Who: Delta and the Bannermen
by Malcolm Kohll (Target, 1989)
audiobook read by Bonnie Langford (BBC, 2017)
An ambitious story, in that it pairs manifestly serious themes (not least, genocide) with a feel-good, late-1950s rock ‘n’ roll vibe. Kohll opts for blithe exuberance in the novelisation, and, regrettably, not to excise the American agents. Langford’s reading is pure Mel.
The Summer of the Dinosaur
by Willis Hall; ill. John Griffiths (Bodley Head, 1977)
A middle-grade adventure that would have been excellent at half the length and with more attention paid to Henry and the dinosaur. Instead, Hall belabours the one-dimensional adults and their tiresome quirks. The ceaseless repetition in no way serves as actual humour.
Children of the Dog Star
by Ken Catran; dir. Chris Bailey (TVNZ, 1984)
6-part children’s SF series with a vibe similar to Chocky or Children of the Stones (and like those programmes most effective in the eerie setup phase). The young actors do quite well and the New Zealand setting is refreshing. Memorable theme music.
If Only They Could Talk
by James Herriot (Michael Joseph, 1970)
audiobook read by Nicholas Ralph (Macmillan, 2020) [as part of “All Creatures Great and Small”]
![Book cover: “If Only They Could Talk” by James Herriot (Michael Joseph, 1970); audiobook read by Nicholas Ralph (Macmillan, 2020) [as part of “All Creatures Great and Small”]](https://www.derelictspacesheep.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/02/Herriot_If-Only-They-Could-Talk.jpg)
Gentle memoirs of a young vet in 1930s Yorkshire. While Herriot’s story has been adapted into films and TV series, this first book retains its own distinct charm through humorous self-observation, setting, and the three principal characters, well voiced here by Ralph.
The Mad Metropolis
by Phillip E. High (Ace, 1966)
reprinted as “Double Illusion” (Dobson, 1970)
While the central premise remains relevant—humanity entrusting itself to an AI but installing a kill switch that sends it crazy—High’s execution is amateurish, adding layer after extraneous, unpolished layer to turn an intriguing short story idea into a flabby novel.
Triplet
by Timothy Zahn (Baen, 1987)
Zahn finds a fresh way to mix fantasy and SF but becomes too caught up in worldbuilding and posing scenario-specific problems for his characters to solve. The actual story is little more than advanced role-playing, the high-stakes threat just another intellectual exercise.